


I Was Born Tired

by inkslinger_outlaw



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Abuse, Gen, Misgendering, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trans!Morty, Trans!Rick, Transphobia, Underage Smoking, psychological abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:29:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkslinger_outlaw/pseuds/inkslinger_outlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But I never got rested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Was Born Tired

**Author's Note:**

> all i can write is bullshit ptojection onto fictional characters

I have no fucking idea what I'm doing. 

That's the first thought that keeps running through my head as I hold a pocket knife in my hand. 

What the _fuck_ am I doing? 

That's the next thought as I push the blade against my arm, holding it there.

I'm so messed up.

The third and final thought before I slide the blade across my arm, opening my skin.

I release a shaky breath and slump forward. My gaze burns holes into my arm as I watch the blood run down. 

Like with anything else, I found out about self-harm through the internet. Obsessively reading blog after blog and any articles I could find on it. Stories, videos and art too. The thought buried its roots into my skull until it was all I could think about. Up to now, I didn't have to balls to actually do it. Too scared, too damn cowardly to let myself try.

But goddamnit I'm glad I did.

I take a deep breath and make another cut. I nearly laugh as everything falls away, the pain, the blood and the knife being the only things I'm able to focus on. Why the hell did I wait so long to do this-

"Morty!" I drop my knife to the floor and shoot out of my bed in alarm. "Dinner!" My heart pounds in my chest.

"O-Ok, mom! Be, um, coming in a se-second!" 

I hear her retreat down the steps and I lift my arm back up to inspect it.

Did I do that? Woah... 

I quickly snag a sweater from my floor and rush to the bathroom after picking up my pocket knife. I wash off the blood as fast as I can while making sure there's not a speck left. On me or on anything in the bathroom.

I breathe in and out for a moment before heading downstairs to see my family.

As usual, my sister is on her phone, my dad... I take a closer look at him. He's on his tablet, but he looks _pissed_. Aw, shit. Did I do something? I look over at mom. Her face... I can't really describe it? Sad, but... also happy? No. Hopeful? I sit at the table and carefully avoid looking at anyone. Can they tell? Do they know what I did? Do I look different? I yank my sleeves down further just to be safe. 

Hey, is that another set of dishes at the table? Are we having someone over?

"Before we eat, I wanted to talk to you kids about something." I glance up and my mom is smiling. It looks strained though. "So, you know we have that empty bedroom, right?" I nod a little at that. She's still smiling, but I notice her clench her hands. Why is she brining that up? Is she pregnant again? Oh god, I don't know if she can handle that. She was already enough of a wreck after the first miscarriage. She drinks so much it'd just be another tragedy to heap onto her. "Well... Your grandpa Rick wants to come to stay with us. He wants to get back in touch with his family!" Her eyes shine with tears and I resist the urge to reach out and take her hand in mine. I don't want her to accidentally see anything under my sleeve. 

I've heard them yelling about Rick before, but... He's actually coming here to stay? I don't know how I feel about that. From what I've heard, he's the cause of a lot of mom's problems. Especially the alcoholism. What if she gets worse? What if he's mean? I can't handle anymore pricks in my life. I live with enough of them anyways. Not to even mention all the bullshit I put up with at school.

"Isn't grandpa Rick your crazy dad?" I turn to Summer, an exprrssion of shock on my face. She gives me a blank look, almost as if to say, 'What. You were thinking it too.' Summer sighs and sets her phone down. "Besides, why does he want to come around now? He's like sixty or something, right? Shouldn't he be like, I don't know, going on cruises and playing shuffle board or something?" I just put my head in my hand and look down at the table.

"Well, Summer. Your grandpa... Um... He's a scientist. He..." I look up and mom looks extremely uncomfortable. Dad's glaring at her, seeming to dare her to continue. "You grandpa Rick travels through space..." I immediately perk up. 

"So he's an astronaut?" I grin at her, excited. He could tell me all kinds of things about space!

"Not quite, honey." My smile drops and I furrow my brow. What does she mean then?

"He builds his own spaceships and, er, travels to other planets and galaxies." 

What?

"Oh my god, Beth! Her dad is an alcoholic, drugged up crackpot who flies around the galaxy to meet aliens!" I look to my dad, my mind stuttering to a halt. 

Aliens? He goes to other... planets where there's aliens. They're real?!

" **Jerry**."

"It's true! You know it's true!" Mom closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 

"He is not a crackpot. He's very, very smart. He's just eccentric."

"An eccentric lunatic..." Mom looks like she's going to reach over the table and smack him, but turns back to me and Summer instead.

"I think you'll all get along great. Your grandfather's really interested in meeting you two." I shift in my seat.

"When's he supposed to be here?"

Mom opens her mouth, but the front door suddenly bangs open, scaring us. A tall, lanky old man with blue hair strolls into the kitchen. He pulls out a flask from his lab coat and takes a swig.

"What's up, b-OUGH-itches!"

I sit up straight and stare at him. 

Are you fucking kidding me?

"Dad!" Mom shoots out her chair and throws herself at Rick. She hugs him tight and he holds her back, seeming awkward while he pats her back.

"Hey, sw-sw, uh, kid. How are, how are you doing?" 

"Oh, dad! I missed you so much!"

"Yeah." 

Dad says nothing. He sits there, arms crossed. Rick looks to my dad, frown deepening.

" _Jerry_."

" **Rita**." 

The whole room seems to stop. Why'd he call him Rita? Rick's face goes red in sheer rage and he narrows his eyes.

"Jerry! How could you?!" What the hell's going on?

"Listen up, _Jerry_. My fucking name isn't RI-UURP-TA! And it hasn't been Rita since be-before you were even thought of! Call, ca-call, say that name again, and-oough-and I-I'll put you six-six goddamn feet, under the, under the fucking ground!" 

Wait... Is... Is he... Is Rick like me?

I slowly stand up and walk over to Rick, trying to break the tension.

"Uh, uh h-hey. I'm, my name is Mo-Morty. It's nice to see, meet you, Rick."

"Morty, huh? Uuurp!" He furrows his unibrow and looks down at Beth. "Thought you had two, uh, don't you got two, Ough! D-Daughters?"

"We do have two daughters. The one you're talking to is Melody." I step back a little and hug myself with my arms. Dad, come on... I bite the inside of my cheek _hard_ and stare at my shoes.

"Jerry, for god's _sake_! Maybe you should stay somewhere **else** tonight!"

Dad stands and slams his hands down on the table. I jump about a foot back and cover my face.

"This is my house too, Beth!" 

"The hell it is, Jerry! Who pays all of the bills, huh?!" 

"I'm trying!"

"Not hard enough! What kind of man are you, Jerry! What kind of _father_?!" 

"I'm a great father!" 

I feel sick. My knees shake and it feels like everything is collapsing in on me. Someone rests their hand on my shoulder and I just **bolt**. I run all the way back to my room and slam the door shut. 

"Look at what you did!" 

"Me?! This is all your psycho dad's fault!"

I cover my ears to block out the muffled screaming. My entire body shakes and I fall back against the door. My legs completely give out then and I collapse to the floor, kneeling over. I sob into my lap and dig my nails into my scalp.

Shitshitshitshit S H I T!

I scramble to grab my pocket knife and sloppily yank my sleeves up. I let out another sob as I slowly turn my arms to ribbons. It grounds me a little, but this isn't the same. Why does this feel so wrong? Why isn't this **helping**?! I thought I had something that finally worked! I throw the knife against the wall, splattering blood on it. I'll probably, definitely, regret it later, but I don't fucking care right now! They're still yelling downstairs and I bunch my shirt up, shoving it into my mouth. And _scream_ bloody murder. WhywhywhyWHY! There's a knock on my door and I bang my head against it. I put my full weight on it, which isn't a lot, to keep it shut. 

"M-m-uuuurgh-orty? This is your, your room, right? You o-o-alright in there?" I try to hold in my cries as I reply with a shaky voice.

"F-Fi-Fine! Go, um, leave please." I try to wipe my face off with my hand, but just end up smearing blood over my skin. I hear shuffling and a tap. It sounds like Rick sat outside the door.

"Look, Morty, you ca-can't, you can't-don't let pricks like Jerry get you down about being, that you're tr-trans. They're sad little-little people who feel like shit so-UUURP they have to be-be, hurt other people to feel b-better, Morty."

I know all that, but it still hurts...

"He's my dad, R-Rick."

"Yeah, a-and he's not a-not a, he's a shitty one, Morty." 

I look down at my arms, able to focus again on the sting. My eyes widen when I see blood _everywhere_. Ooh, no... My head bangs against tthe door again as my head spins a little.

"Morty? Y-You ok, Morty?"

"Mm, fine. I'm fine. I'm a-alright."

"Sounds like a lo-lo-ton of bullshit to me. I'm coming i-in."

"N-No!" 

The knob rattles anyways and I pray Rick can't break in. I hear the lock click and shut my eyes tight.

"Hey, what're you doing trying to get into Melody's room you pervert?!" 

"His name isn't Melody! H-His name's M-M-OOUGH-orty, Jerry!"

"Gey away from there!" 

They yell at each other and both go back downstairs. I thank whatever god it is that I didn't get caught. Maybe the devil's looking out for me.

I sit there against the door until the yelling dies down and the front door slams shut with Jerry shouting on his way out. I grab up my bloody knife again, putting it back in my pocket.

finally. 

I pick myself up and crawl into bed. Maybe Jerry'll stay away for good. I pull my sleeves down over my hands and curl up in bed, completely exhausted.

There's a few more knocks on my door, but when I don't answer, nobody comes in.

I wish I didn't have to deal with anything anymore.

...

Shit, I still gotta clean blood off the wall.

**Author's Note:**

> see ya next time


End file.
